


Journal of a Traveling Bard

by Lurch



Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: Basic information about a character for D&D, First Crush, Gen, I Tried, Imprisonment, POV Male Character, Past Abuse, Past Character Death, Pirates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-07
Updated: 2018-04-07
Packaged: 2019-04-19 18:04:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14242818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lurch/pseuds/Lurch
Summary: This 'Short background story' got A LITTLE out of hand.Aiden is the very first character I created for Dungeons and Dragons.I didn't aim to create a perfect or really strong character as he is simply someone who is supposed to be somewhat relatable and – even though he isn't – human.





	1. Home is where you are loved.

**Author's Note:**

> Adult Name: Thamior Liadon  
> Child Name: Aiden Liadon  
> Sex: Male  
> Age: 153 years  
> Height: 150 cm (4,9 ft)  
> Weight: 25 Kg (~58 lbs)  
> Race: Avariel or Aril-tel-quessir  
> Class: Bard  
> Alignment: Neutral-Good  
> Languages: Common, Celestial, Elven  
> Cantrips: Vicious Mockery, Mage Hand

Journal of a Traveling Bard  
Ch.1 Home is where you are loved.

 

Sometimes I wonder what the meaning of true freedom is. I lay down into a field of dark, lush grass and stare up into the deep blue sky, just watch the stars as wind and the cries of birds surround me in a beautiful night. For me it's, as simple as it may sound, being able to play my instruments and sing for people. To bring a little joy in one's life and brighten their day with my voice. No duties to take care of, nothing to worry about and the ability to do whatever the heck I want.  
I care about my own freedom as much as about others and would do anything to protect it. For me and for those who cannot speak for themselves, such as children. I love kids, they are the future of this world and the next and need a guardian as long as they can´t help themselves.  
You'd be surprised how many human beings in this world are just cruel without even being evil. I have witnessed so many cases of adults abusing kids, some of them even their own offsprings.  
Once I even had to kill a father who would just not stop abusing his daughter in a way that still disgusts me to my very core.  
A father should protect his child from monsters, not BE that monster.  
When I saw what that man did to her I just snapped and smashed his skull in with my violin.  
It broke, but it was worth it. Do not think wrong of me. I value every life on earth, humanoid or not, but this sight I had to bear witness was unbearable for me to see and do nothing about it.

But this is not where this load of bullshit I call journal should start.  
To begin something written is never really easy. It seems easy until you have to actually do it.  
At first the words keep flowing from you until you get a writer's blockade at some point and – in the worst cases - are never really able to continue it and just give up.  
My story would begin when I was somewhere around 4 years old. I was still an elfling and wandered around in a forest, injured and exhausted. I don't know why I was there or who had dropped me off, but I was all alone and cried.  
It was in the middle of the night during the cold months. I was clothed in nothing but a thin robe wrapped around my tiny, shaking body. With bare feet I struggled to stay straight and fell over more than once. In the darkness I could see predators, just waiting to pounce and eat me alive  
With closed eyes I sat down next to a fallen tree whose roots surrounded me as I pressed my body into the wood and let my tears fall down to the ground, where they were absorbed by dirt and moss. I seriously thought I would die here, but then an old elven wizard appeared in front of me and kneeled down to eye level with me.  
"Oh my dear child." he said in a gentle voice and brushed away the hair from my forehead to inspect my injuries and then brought me to his home where his daughter lived with her husband.  
Those people became my foster parents and I came to call the man who found me 'Grandpa'.  
I never thought much about my origins after this day. Those people had left me – a little kid – to die in a forest infested with predators and poisonous plants. Where I came from or who my real parents were didn't matter to me anymore. I already had found a new home, thanks to the high-elven wizard Thamior. They were my family and I loved them.  
My father Erik was a strong nordman sailor who loved to read fairytales of heroes fighting dragons to me whenever he was home. He was just barely older than me, but already all grown up and even had traits of a reddish beard on his chiseled face. His eyes were the most sticking out thing on his face, green and hazelnut swirled together with blue sprinkles in them.  
My mother Lianna was a half-elven beauty with the kindest heart one could ever have. She was a bard, like I am now. Mother taught me everything I know about music and art. The very day my grandfather brought me there she loved me with fiery passion. She couldn't bear children herself and desperately wished to have at least one offspring. I was the best thing to ever happen to her and Erik.

We lived in a small village near a coast behind a hill. The people in here were simple but kind ones. If you climbed up this green hill full of flowers and lush grass, you would have a perfect view over the village and beautiful fields behind it. A crooked path of dirt would follow the fields up to the horizon, where everything melted into the reddish light of the setting sun in the evenings.  
A gorgeous sight to see. The ocean on the other side of the hill would reflect the sunlight and make the water sparkle like diamonds in the morning hours.  
My grandfather Thamior took me there to practice my flying skills. He was not a winged elf, but had traveled with some of them in his younger years. With the years I learned to read and write their tongue, how to fly and their way of living from him. During the first years of practice, I crashed a lot and broke many of my hollow bones. Even though the grass was soft beneath my feet, when I fell down from a height of ten feet, it felt as hard as stones. I can't remember how many times the local doctor had to patch me up from scratches and broken bones. When I had mastered that, I was told more about elvish lore, their tongue and way of living.  
He told me how elves are given names at birth but can choose names themselves when they are adults. I had been given the name Aiden by my foster father when Thamior brought me home but the chance to choose my own name as a grown up was also very tempting.

One day, I was around 40 years old, bandits came at night and burned down our village to the ground. My father fought them with the other men, but he was old and fell to a bandit's blade like all the others. There was no hope, everyone who fought died in this very night. They were either burned into ashes or impaled on the attackers' weapons.  
When the first ray of sunlight came to view, everything left of my home was a pile of burning corpses, destroyed houses and dirt. If only grandpa had been there that night, he could have stopped them.  
The bandits took us, meaning me and a few other people from the village, away and brought us to their hiding spot in a cave deep down in the dark forest. The wooden cages on the carriage creaked and cracked on the dirty way as they took us away from home. The smoke from the destroyed village was visible for many miles, reminding us of what we had lost merely minutes ago.

Bodily I already was an adult, but that night I cried like a little baby for the first time in over thirty years. We were separated in groups of Elves and humans. When the bandit-chief looked me over, he would only cock his head and stare straight at me for over a minute. He was a very tall human in a patchwork like heavy armor of several parts that didn't fit together well. A necklace made of what I would assume were human bones dangled around his thick neck as he looked me over with hungry eyes in a way that made me shiver with disgust. I felt so naked under his stare.  
"What kind of elf is that? Why has she wings?" Internally, I cringed at the word 'she', but I didn't say it out loud. In the end, it didn't even matter. I was still brought to the other elves and locked up. The cell was way too small for six persons, none of us had any personal space.  
The ground was dirty and wet, moss infested with vermin, covered the walls. The stench of fear and shit was almost unbearable for my sensible nose.  
A very small kid gently pulled on my sleeve and looked at me with a look of pure horror in her hazel eyes before she curled up into my arms and started crying.

Next morning, the bandits brought us to the next bigger town where a blackmarket was, specialized on selling people into slavery by force. If I ever come across such a thing nowadays, I always do whatever the fuck I can to free as many enslaved ones as possible. Slavery is a disgusting, cruel and unforgivable thing that, in my opinion, should be punished with a death sentence. But it is actually a legal thing to do in some areas, which I will never be able to understand.  
The others and me were all lined up on a stage made of wooden planks that creaked beneath my naked feet. As the only winged creature I was chained to a link in the floor that prevented me from flying away. I didn't care what would happen to me, I only cared for the other children here.  
One by one they were sold off to different establishments and homes. Some were sold to merchants, some to rich people and some to brothels. Those were the ones I pitied most of all.  
No child should be forced into prostitution but I couldn't do anything about it back then.  
I was just a brat who couldn't even lift a sword properly yet.  
Since winged elves are a rare race, I was tagged with an extremely high price no one really could afford. From dawn 'till dusk no one could buy me, even though many tried to persuade those who owned me to sell me for a lower price.

In the end a rich merchant purchased me and brought me to his home while he kept me chained up in a way that twisted my arms into a unnatural and painful position behind my back.  
As we entered his home which was more of a palace, I was locked into something that looked alot like a golden birdcage.  
Through the bars he handed me a white robe that left the back free and ended around the knees.  
I felt so...odd underneath this man's stare as I removed my old, dirty clothing and got dressed as quick as possible in this new outfit.  
He gave me the – mind the sarcasm – creative nickname 'Angel'. I was placed like a piece of furniture in his home to act as something to impress visitors.  
There were more cages similar to my own holding all kinds of humanoid and animalistic races, such as Minotaurs and Dragonborns. The merchant told me none of them could compare to me regarding rarity and value. I just stared at him with a look of pure disgust for that comment and rolled my eyes.  
My new...home was lightened out really well if you care about such matters. Compared to the other creatures and beings in here my cage was also really big. I had enough space to actually lie down and stretch out my wings. The feather tips just barely touched the golden bars when I did so.  
Two times a day everyone was brought food by a slave. That poor girl was just barely an adult, dressed in rags and with bruises all over her starved body.  
It was a gross sight to see someone in such a devastated bodily state. She would look at me with wonder in her eyes, I guess she had never ever seen something like me before in her whole life.  
I don't blame her for staring. My kind is beautiful after all.


	2. A Pirate's Life

Journal of a Traveling Bard  
Ch.2 A Pirate's Life

 

For almost fifty years I lived in this golden hell, caged and earthbound by my owner. As the years passed by I grew into a handsome young man. Even though I still looked rather feminine for a male, it was no bother to me anymore. When I woke up on this one morning, I heard shouts and explosions from the nearby harbour. My dwarvish master lived on a hill as little away from the coast but those noises were loud enough to be heard from this far away.  
The sound of ringing bells echoed so loud it hurt in my eardrums.  
Another loud, this time earthshaking bang was heard and the next thing I saw were sun rays hitting my face. My hands gripped the golden bars tightly. I didn't know what was going on but this one look at the sun was worth everything to me.  
But a few moments later my view was blocked by a group of figures.

This was the very first time in my entire life, I ever met pirates. My father had told me stories about them, described them as horrible beings who only knew violence and had no mind for right or wrong. He was wrong, so damn wrong about pirates.  
Compared to this 'honest merchant' I had been living with for so long now, they were quite nice people. Their captain, a half elf named Lucian, broke the lock encaging me and offered me his hand. "C'mere mate, we're here t' free ya guys." After hesitating a little, I took his hand and got pulled up into a standing position. This man spoke funny, similar to the way my father had.  
The years of being imprisoned had greatly weakened my body; I was a skinny, pale elf who just barely could stand alone. Lucian had to keep an arm around my waist to prevent me from stumbling over my own feet. I held onto his shoulder with an iron grasp.  
All other cages were opened, one by one everyone was freed.  
The more animalistic creatures ran off into freedom as soon as their cages were opened. Some of the others stayed, fearfully awaiting whatever the pirates had planned.  
"A'righ' ya guys listen up! Y'all free ta go 'n stuff bu' any'ne who wants ta join us can do that. Yer choice." A few former slaves and prisoners raised their hands and cheered happily.  
I was among those who joined the captain's crew.

Their ship was old and a little weathered compared to the other ones in the harbour but still a beauty. She was patched up in various places and even the sails were stitched together with fabrics of several different colours. About halfway down to the harbour my legs gave in and I would have collapsed if it hadn't been for Lucian holding and after this almost fall carrying me.  
But anyway, this is not about some handsome elven man saving a damsel in distress. Even though I must admit I had developed a little crush on him over the years I sailed together with him under his command.  
Compared to what stories my father had told me about pirates, they seemed really nice. All of them were former slaves that had freed themselves one day and had become rebels against human traffickers since then, branded as pirates.  
Once everyone was brought to the ship ironically named 'The Trader' and we were far enough away from the city, everything finally calmed down a little.  
The ship's doctor looked me and the others over, checked for injuries and if necessary, patched up any wounds.

For about three weeks I was too weak to walk properly and had to concentrate on getting enough strength again. And when I had managed that, I would stare up into the sky during the night.  
On some of these nights Lucian would come to me and simply stand next to me as we both watched the stars. It was rather quiet tonight, no one except him and me was up here and I admit, it was kind of welcoming. This was the time where my crush on the captain started to flare up slowly but steady. He was rather tall and muscular for an elf with short, red hair covering his tanned head and eyes as blue as the deep ocean itself. A long, thin scar covered his left cheek, giving him a somewhat rough look. He grinned at me with that cocky smirk that seemed to be permanently frozen into that stupid (pretty) face of his.  
We sat together on deck, hurled up into one big blanket and surrounded by just the sounds of waves hitting the ship and shined on by the dim, icecold starlight. With a little shiver, I curled up a little closer to Lucian and let out a shallow breath that was visible in the cold air.  
We had sailed the seas together for three years now and come to be close friends and for me there was even more, but I doubt he was aware of it.  
As smart as he may seemed, in truth he was so oblivious to many things around him regarding romantic interests. Not a single one of my attempts to get closer to him worked out in the end. And believe me, there were many of them throughout the years. I must say everything I tried was really shy and maybe not so easy to get but every other person on this ship who knew me better than a few words at dinner was aware of the fact that I had a huge crush on the captain.  
He was my first love interest so I had no idea what exactly to do to get said love interests' attention to you but I swear I tried my very best. There even was this one time where I snuck into his cabin in the middle of the night and tried to gather enough courage to wake my sleeping captain and well...get intimate with him. Yes, I am aware of how extremely creepy this sounds and now that I am older and wiser about that kind of matters I would never try such a thing again, but I can reassure you: I was way too scared to actually go this far back then.

The years passed by as I regained strength and confidence and once again grew into that sassy being I had been before my time in a golden hell. I was no longer this shy, broken little elfling but a strong young man, now finally an adult by the laws of the Avariel. In honor to my beloved grandfather, I took the name Thamior as my adult name. Even though I hadn't seen him in years and didn't know if he was even still amongst the living I still felt a strong love towards him.  
I never regretted joining this crew but all I ever wanted was to be free without having to fear the law all the time. Over the years we have lost so many of our fellow pirates to the hand of authorities and other pirates. Of course amongst sailors these kinds of losses are normal, but this doesn't make it any easier. I myself acquired a few scars in my time on this ship. A big one covers my back just between my wings, three smaller but rough looking ones on my shoulder acquired from a wild beast during a trip to tropical forests way down in the south of our world and a two very tiny ones on my inner thighs. A tattoo covers the scar on my back, black roses entwined within a web of thorns and leaves. One rose for every fallen comrade among our lines.

As the winds of the sea low trough my raven hair I lean against the borders of our ship and stare down to the harbour we are sailing to. I will go abroad and leave the crew in this city as a free man and travel the world as nothing but a normal bard. It was never my wish to be a pirate, I just stumbled into this life by so many random events. The men I've met along my way have grown to be close friends. I wouldn't change it for anything in the world but I cannot stay a criminal, which we technically are. I don't know what future will hold for me but I am most excited to find out.  
The Trader lands in the harbour and I walk down the docks with nothing but a small seasack, a pouch of gold, my instruments and the clothes I am currently wearing. I wave the ship goodbye as it sails away until it completely vanishes from sight. The weathered wood creaks beneath my feet as I make my way from the docks and into the town with a beating heart. In the nearest tavern I rented a room for the night and dropped my body onto the straw mattress on the wooden bed. With a deep exhale I eventually managed to calm down a little from the agitation, to regain a constant calm heartbeat.  
I must admit I am quite anxious to be all on my own for the first time since that night my grandfather found me, but I'm sure it will work out for me in the end.  
I'm finally free.


	3. The looks of Thamior




End file.
